Dereliction
by WeLonelyOldSouls
Summary: Adrift in a broken cutter, I wasn't in the best position. With pirates combing the ship for supplies, my stance got worse. Hunted by the Alliance for murdering my parents platoon, I really had it bad. Losing my stolen ship wouldn't earn me any sympathy. The only thing worse would be getting shot. But, you know the universe, it always comes through for you.


The charred armor sat on the bench in the dim cargo hold. Faded blue and bronze paint was offset by carbon scoring. The chest plate had a large crack down the middle, branching from the right shoulder to the left hip. All the pieces had the standard wear and tear, but little hints showed that this was a long time coming. The thigh plates were chipped up the sides, a web of melted ripples. The plate for the shins did not meat the boots seamlessly, but was bent at an angle. It was the little things that had forced the refit.

A sole bulb was lit above the benches bolted into the wall. A figure sat at the other bench, a rifle and a pistol disassembled next to a smg that lacked a straight barrel. In addition, the stock was snapped into a jagged edge, complete with dried blood. The figure was messing with a gauntlet she had pulled from the armor. In a flash of light a glowing blade sprang forth from the gauntlet, flash forged and micro sharp. The second, connected gauntlet had a shook and whined, but couldn't forge a blade. The figure powered off the blade, dissatisfied. She typed more commands, linking the two pieces of armor with more than a few wires. When still the desired result did not appear, she split the gauntlet into halves, directly interlacing the wires and voiding any warranty. She retyped in the codes, and hit execute.

The lights started to flicker and dim as the ships power supply was consumed. An alert sprang into life and the person closed the alarm hastily. The lone bulb grew brighter and brighter before suddenly dying. The area was dark for a moment before the twin blades glowed orange. The dim light illuminated a happy grin. The blades disappeared and the person typed a few commands on their wrist tool. Slowly lights warmed and clicked on. In the cramped area was a pair of benches, one for weapon modification, and the other for armor. The person leans back in faded fatigues. A devastated shuttle occupies the rest of the space.

A different alarm starts shrieking suddenly. She silences it and grabs a few of the guns, sliding the pieces together. Her hand hovers over the armor, before passing on. The plating was too charred to be much use. The gauntlets however, were usable. Once she put them back together, that is. The right one houses an internal clip for the holdout pistol, which she snaps into place, while the left projects a radar map. She grabs some of the snapped cable and uses it to form a sling for the AR, glancing over the ship bay one more time before leaving.

he ducks out of the hold and into the cramped hall, closing the hatch behind her and locking it. She cycles to the ship diagnostics on her omni tool, overriding the main core and cutting the power. The hall goes dark. She clicks a sight into place on her AR, and leads by staring down the scope. The scope is standard night vision, useable only because of the glow of emergency lights. She patrols from the bottom of her stolen cutter to the middle deck without seeing anyone, which is a bad sign. A very, very bad sign. Only a smart attacker would keep his troops by the breach point, waiting for the crew to come to them. While two ships were linked, they were both incapable of maneuvering, so there was no chance of escape. At least, not without losing all atmosphere and shearing off armor. In other words, suicide. She climbs through the corridor of the engine room, ducking into a bulkhead when she hears talking.

"Boss wants to know how long." One male says.

"I'll be in the core in a few minutes, until then I can't say." The other replies. From his speech pattern, it appears that the engineer is a Salarian, while the guard is a human.

"Salvage has almost completed the first deck. It's amazing we haven't seen anyone."

"We detected a power spike, so there must be someone. It can't be derelict." The Salarian argues.

"Could have been a power cell finally cooking off. These alliance vessels aren't known for careful- Aagrh!" A trio of slugs burst through his shields and spray the wall with blood. His body hits the ground as the engineer backs up in fear.

A pair of crimson blades snap into life next to his head from the long shadows thrown by the floodlight they had been using.

"Don't move. Don't speak. Listen." The voice was cold, carried out without hesitation or waver. This was a professional, and the Salarian knew it.

"I- I won't call for help. I'm not even one of them. They attacked our research ship. I was the only engineer on board. They took me with them; threatened to kill me if I didn't help." He protested, mind going into overdrive.

"So you won't mind if I knock you out and leave you here?"

"Wha?" Clunk. The engineer hit the deck without any resistance, eyes widened in shock.

"No chances..." The soldier muttered, stepping over the unconscious alien. She checks the guard for any salvageable material, but her shot ripped apart his comms and his armor wouldn't fit her. The ammo however, was much appreciated. She kicked the floodlight, and it flickered off, bathing the cramped hall in darkness once more.

The next level would be the trouble spot. It was where the rest of these pirates were hiding. They also likely got some indication of their friend's demise. The woman poked her head up from the ladder, immediately pulling it back. Two lights were trained on the hole, and at least four guards were watching. She had to find another route.

She backtracked to the engine room, scanning over the abandoned materials. The drill they had been using on the engine room bulkhead was intact, but would cause too much noise. If she went all the way to the shuttle bay, she could scavenge some explosives, but again it would be too loud. She had to go up that ladder. Even if she restored power, it was likely they would still transport the ship to 'safety' in their home system or an abandoned cluster. She was effectively trapped.

If he had the ladder under guard, then he most certainly had the ventilation ducts trapped. She needed a new plan. She couldn't ambush them, but neither could she let them restore the ship's power. She had no clue their numbers or skill, or how well supplied they were. She had no armor, or means of escape. _Trapped like pyjaks in a trench._ She needed to have an advantage; a flank point, or to trap them. She had one pistol, a paired set of gauntlets, one AR, one dead pirate, one unconscious engineer, and one drill IF she could just-."

That was it! The soldier dug around in the fallen pirate's armor, searching for the supplies. Using her gauntlets as a production facility; she manufactured seven blades similar to the ones forged by her Omni tool. She laid her rifle on the rungs of the ladder, and paused below the opening. Hopefully the guards hadn't moved. Taking a deep breath, she leapt to the top rung, throwing two of the knives at the lights. Before the guards could react, she had another two blades in the air. As their gunfire finally roared to life, she folded and fell back down the ladder shaft. She scooped up her rifle and backtracked to the bulkhead, diving behind the cover and listening to her gauntlet.

"Damn! We've go no lights! Dev and Sep are down! What did he hit us with? Yes, contact, contact. There is definitely someone besides us on this ship. He's taken down two at our post and I presume the engineer and West. We need reinforcements! You, Tere, go find him." One of the two ordered. A clang came from the ladder shaft as her gauntlet hit the floor. It had been wedged in the top rung, transmitting audio feedback. She waited one, two beats, and then engaged the blade.

A twisted scream came from the shaft.

"He got me in the ankle! Some kind of remote Omni blade! I need backup." The pirate she assumed was Tere shouted. She rounded back to the corner, peeking through her sight at the fallen man. He was clutching his leg, one arm tangled in the rungs. His rifle was out of his grasp. She waited for his friend to show up.

"Dude! I can't just stay here! Are you going to let me bleed out?" Tere shouted again, fear creeping into his voice. He looked around nervously, seeing monsters in the darkness. "Don't leave me." He whimpered.

She was about to put him out of his misery when a blur smashed to the bottom of the shaft, narrowly missing Tere. Its shotgun was trained on the empty corridor.

"There's medigel in my left leg compartment. I'll keep watch." The newcomer hissed at Tere.

"Thanks man!" she was cautious of their proximity. No way would she be able to dodge a blast from his scattergun. She could blind throw a knife, but the chances of it hitting anything were slim. Thinking fast, she tiptoed back to the fallen pirate and shed her weapons and armor. She dipped her fingers in the pooled blood and smeared it along her hip. Next, she cut at the fatigue's pants, thankful she didn't have the boots on. Next, she sliced off a few of the shirts buttons and tore off the undershirt. To complete the look, she tensed and drew the blade across her side. It was only a scratch, but the guard's blood made it look worse. Rebuttoning the dress shirt wrong, and standing in a pair of torn fatigues with an obvious injury, she was fairly certain she could get out of this.

She was sure to make noise as she scampered back to the corner. She let out a whimper of pain, holding the bloody knife. The two pirates tensed up, the one gripping his shotgun tighter, while Tere bandaged his ankle. She peeked around the corner, squeaking in mock surprise.

"Come out with your hands up." The pirate demanded, chambering his scattergun. The woman put a hand on the corner and slowly staggered forward, playing up her injury. Tere's reaction was instantaneous, yanking on the shotgun immediately as his synapses fired. The other guard, instinctively applying the 4.5 pounds of pressure needed to activate the mass effect field, fired. His modified shotgun shot mostly into the floor, but one lucky shard punched through her upper arm in a spray of blood.

"Shit!" Tere swore, catching her falling body and applying pressure.

"Fale, we have something. A human woman, appearing to have escaped from the soldier who attacked us. She's injured. The bastard shot her when she tried to run. She also has a knife wound in her side." The other pirate commed, one hand on his shotgun.

"Who are you?" Tere asked, glancing at her face.

"Je ne comprends pas. Qui êtes-vous?" she asked in rapid fire French, eyes widening as pain set in.

"I can't understand her, Hex!" Tere said.

"She's talking in an old earth language called French. I don't know the first sentence, but the second one I remember from a poem." Hex replies.

Tere raises an eyebrow, and then continues. "And?"

"She wants to know who we are." Hex responds.

"Um… Piratae, pirens, pirata est…" He trails off. This time Hex gives the look of disbelief, but quickly stows it as a pair of boots slowly clink down the ladder. This pirate has his helmet on.

"We need to take her to the med bay. C'mon, help me get her legs." He orders. Between the three of them, they manage to get her up the ladder, but not without a lot of jostling. They have nothing on Alliance medics. She bites her lip to try and avoid tears, but every movement pulls on the wound. By the time she is propped against a wall in the CIC, tears are freely running down her face. Tere negotiates to get the honor of watching her, obviously angling for the medic to look at his ankle.

"I'm sorry we shot you. You probably can't understand me, but I'll say it none the less. You remind me of my sister. You and her appear to be the same age. She's back home, on Trident. I'd hate for her to be some captive of an Alliance officer, forced to do whatever. Don't worry, you're safe with us." He says, sliding down beside her and relaxing his grip on his rifle.

"Bu-belle." She replies, the sedatives taking hold and numbing her arm. Tere looks at her in surprise, noting the glassy eyes and faraway look. He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Yes, bubble. I knew those drugs were too strong of a dose. You're too small." Tere comments, poking her uninjured side. She jumps and places a hand over her side, giving him a wary and drugged look. She covers a petite yawn, leaning on Tere. By now, she isn't sure if she's doing this because of the drugs, because she trying to worm deeper into the pirates' trust, or if she actually likes this Tere. Either way, it was a problem for when she awoke. She laid her head on Tere's shoulder and closed her eyes.


End file.
